


It's A Conversation

by sprat



Category: Whip It (2009)
Genre: Community: help_haiti, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-03
Updated: 2010-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:36:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprat/pseuds/sprat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not a crush,  exactly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bookshop for Help_haiti. Beta by Lynnmonster. Warnings for mild bondage, mild d/s dynamics, dirty talk, insults, antagonistic flirting.

About three weeks after Bliss moved into her apartment on Duval, she and Maggie went to pick up the Scouts ' share of promo flyers from Maven's place. They'd knocked on Maven's totally normal-looking apartment door and Maven had let them in with the phone stuck between her shoulder and her chin, rolling her eyes when they'd said hi. She led them to her kitchen with its cat on the windowsill and its Bettie Page fridge magnets without once pausing in her phone conversation, like what she was saying was no big deal at all. So Bliss had tried play it cool, too, but that was not exactly easy because what Maven was saying as she shoved a kitchen chair out of her way with one bare foot and then bent to hoist a milk crate full of flyers off another one, was this:  
‎  
"No,‎ ‏you little fucker, you heard me the first time. You get those pants down right now and then you bend over your desk and you brace yourself, because you are about to get the worst beating I have ever given anyone, you understand? "  
‎  
Bliss glanced at Maggie. Maggie bit her lip and lifted her eyebrows, clearly more amused than alarmed. "Customer," she mouthed at Bliss. Bliss nodded, trying to look like she knew what that meant. Maggie shook her head, tugging Bliss closer so she could whisper in her ear: "Maven's a phone dominatrix. She's working."  
‎  
Maven had probably been able to hear that, but she was still ignoring them. She stuck her cigarette into the corner of her mouth and sank to one knee so she could rummage around in the bottom milk crate. "You ready for me, baby?" she said into the phone, then straightened up with the stack of flyers in both hands. She hefted them at Bliss, her eyes on Bliss's face. "You sure?" she said and it was _weird _ because she was still totally looking at Bliss, and the weirdness (or something) was keeping Bliss from moving or breathing or doing anything, really, except standing there like an idiot while Maven talked filth into the phone. "Because I am going to be so hard on you tonight," Maven said, her voice low and rough. "You need me to be so hard on you, baby. Are you ready for that?" Bliss swallowed. For some reason, she was suddenly finding that she had a lot of, you know...spit. To deal with.  
‎  
Maven rolled her eyes at Bliss and handed the flyers to Maggie instead, then dragged the first milk crate back on top of the other one. She stood and waved them toward the door again. Bliss saw the TV flickering in the darkened living room when they passed it on the way out, a half-drunk glass of iced tea sweating on the coffee table. It looked like Maven was watching _Friends _ .  
‎  
"Good boy,‎" ‏Maven said, sweet-voiced, one hand ready on the edge of the door. "That's right. Beg me for it. Go ahead." She waited until they'd stepped out into the building's hallway, gave the two of them a tight, fake smile and slammed the door in their faces.

And that was probably the start of it.  
‎  
***  
‎  
It's not a crush, exactly. When you have a crush on someone, you, like, call them all dreamy and ask them on dates and maybe write their name on the inside of your binder in glitter pen. You don't do your best to bodycheck them into the boards so hard they might actually _notice _ this time, instead of just sneering at you around their mouth guard like your puny little bodycheck doesn't even register on the grand scale of Bodychecks They've Received in Their Career. You don't get so distracted thinking about what they might do to retaliate if they _did_ notice that you skate right into one of your own team members when she's trying to pull off her part of Play Number Five, costing your team an entire round. Bliss has no idea what you're supposed to call a thing like that, but crush definitely doesn't fit.  
‎  
"Ruthless‎!" ‏Razor says, annoyed. "Hey. You feel like joining us? Or you want to spend the rest of the match on the bench?"  
‎  
Bliss blinks. She pulls her attention away from Maven's stupid, arrogant back with her stupid ripped-up t-shirt and her stupid tattoo winding its way around the sweaty nape of her neck. The rest of the Scouts are staring at her, eyes wary. She scowls at them. "I'm good, " she says. "I'm in it. "  
‎  
***  
‎  
"So I'm a lesbian now," she tells Pash. She's standing in front of her kitchen sink with her cell phone pressed to her ear, holding onto the counter's edge with her free hand so she can pretend it's a ballet barre. She lifts her leg straight up sideways, toes pointed, then lowers it to the floor again.

"Lame," Pash says, after a second.

Bliss frowns. She pauses in the middle of a leg lift for at least three or four seconds before she lowers the leg to the floor again and puts her phone to her other ear. "I wasn't expecting you to be weird about it," she says. "You know, what with your weekly tales of slutting it up with the entire campus women's centre. And all."

Pash sighs the sigh she uses when she thinks Bliss isn't thinking something all the way through. "Dude," she says. "That's _why_. It's just. Kind of unoriginal."

Bliss rolls her eyes. "I'm rolling my eyes right now," she tells Pash. "Just so you know." She grabs the counter and lifts the other leg, slow and constrained, like they'd taught her in actual ballet class back when her mom had still been making her go.

"Hmm," Pash says, not listening. A few seconds go by in silence. Bliss does like five or six leg lifts. Through the phone, she can hear the spluttery whistle of Pash's electric kettle, the sploosh of hot water into some kind of paper cup. "Instant mashed potatoes," Pash says. She sounds happy about them, so Bliss doesn't comment. She lowers her foot to the floor again instead, leans both elbows on the rim of counter in front of the kitchen sink. "So who's the girl?" Pash asks, finally.

Bliss clears her throat. "No...girl. Yet. Just a crush."

"Well, whatever," Pash says impatiently. Bliss can hear her spoon knocking against the sides of the paper cup as she stirs her gross potatoes. "Who's the _crush_, then?"

Bliss takes a breath. Maybe she shouldn't say, she thinks, but her mouth starts talking anyway, like it always does. "Somebody from derby. Um. Maven, actually. I think you might have met her." She puffs her cheeks out and squeezes her eyes closed.

"The one who...threw you in the hot tub? And, like, pretty much hates your guts?" Pash sounds amused.

Bliss blows the breath she was holding through pursed lips, leans way forward so her weight is all on her elbows and her feet are kind of dangling. She remembers Maven's hands on her that night, the way her face had looked, bent over Bliss's own. "Yeah," she says.

Pash hmms. "I'm pretty sure there's, like, something seriously wrong with you."

Bliss grins. "Yeah," she says again.

***

She doesn't do anything about it at first. She thinks it's probably one of those things where she'll pine for a couple of months and Maven will fail to be aware that she exists and then everything will just go back to normal on its own. Plus, she has a lot of other shit to think about: derby and the string of bad jobs she gets before Maggie finally hires her at the 7-11 and the way the first roommate she has thinks the sunporch is a good place to build a biodeisel processor, and the way the second roommate has a dog that eats the couch in a really literal way and then throws up splotches of brilliant blue foam for days. It's kind of a challenging life.

But then there's this one night when the entire league is back at Hot Tub Johnny's and Smashley's trying to teach Bliss the right way to arm wrestle, the two of them leaning over the rickety picnic table where the smokers hang out, arms braced and straining, t-shirt sleeves rolled up because Smashley says that proper display of your guns is part of it, and then out of the corner of her eye, Bliss sees Maven stopped in the middle of the sidewalk with a beer dangling from one hand, head on one side, just..._watching_. She sees Bliss see her but she doesn't look away; her mouth twitches and then she licks her bottom lip, slow and contemplative, her eyes on Bliss's face.

"Dude," Smashley says, sounding disappointed, and then _fuck_, _ow_, Bliss's arm is slamming down into the rough wood of the picnic table. Bliss shakes the cramp out, wincing, and glances back at Maven. Maven is still watching her, grinning now. Bliss cups a hand around her sore shoulder but she finds herself grinning back anyway. "See something you like?" she says, because apparently two cups of Rosa's mystery drink and _bam_, you turn into some kind of cornball pickup artist with, like, a deathwish. She presses her lips together hard to prevent anything even worse from slipping out, but it's too late; Maven's already on her way over, slow and kind of prowly, like lions stalking antelopes or something, and it's hot as fuck but also terrifying, and Bliss has to force herself not to take a step back.

She sucks in a breath instead, lifts her chin. Maven keeps on walking until she's so close Bliss can feel the heat from her, smell the complicated scent of her, until Maven is looking right down into Bliss's upturned face. Bliss swallows, as quietly as possible, and Maven's mouth twitches again. She lifts a hand and touches Bliss's bare upper arm with the tips of her fingers, drags them down to the crook of Bliss's elbow, slow and slightly rough. Bliss shivers. Maven smiles. "Maybe," she says. "Or maybe I just like watching you make a fool of yourself." She winks and then steps back, takes a long sip of beer and sets the bottle on the table before she walks away.

Bliss swallows again. Smashley's staring at her; she can feel it on the side of her face. "Shut up," she says, and Smashley snorts and rolls her eyes.

Three days later, Maven shoves Bliss into the boards hard enough to bruise and slaps her ass before she skates away.

A week after that, Maven's playing pool at Cousin's when Maggie and Bliss end up there for knishes and beer after practice one night, and so Bliss kind of feels obligated to accidentally shove her hip into Maven's as she walks by, making her mess up her shot. "You little shit," Maven says, pulling herself up to her full height, the pool cue still in her hand.

Bliss lifts her eyebrows, gives Maven a little smile and a shrug. "Sorry," she says.

Maven lets her head tip back, lets her mouth drop open a little, tip of her tongue touching the top row of her teeth, eyes narrowed. Bliss can feel that gaze between her shoulder blades all the way back to the table. It makes her grin.

***

"I think we're flirting," Bliss tells Pash, lying in the dark on the replacement couch in the living room. The stupid dog is asleep with its head on her stomach, snoring like train whistles. The wind from outside is sucking the curtains in and out through the open window.

Pash hmms. "Or assaulting each other," she says. "Whatever. Same same." She's cranky because Bliss woke her up; turns out it's later in New York, right now.

"_Paaa-ash_," Bliss says. "Come on. What do I _do_?"

"_Duu-uude_," Pash says, mocking and nasal. "You hang the fuck up and let me sleep because I have to go talk about fucking...postcolonial ontologies at eight in the goddamn morning tomorrow."

Bliss sighs. She makes sure to do it into the mic on the phone so Pash will hear it. "Okay," she says.

Pash goes _arrrrrghh_ and there's a tremendous rustling in the phone for a couple of seconds, probably while Pash turns onto her side and punches the mattress a couple of times. Bliss waits it out.

"You should make a move," Pash says finally. "She's going to think you're just playing around unless you step it up."

Bliss nods. It's good advice. "Thank you," she says.

Pash sighs and hangs up on her.

***

The next day, Bliss rides her bike through a red light, leaves a whole box of ice cream sandwiches to melt into a sticky disgusting puddle on the floor next to the freezer at the 7-11 and somehow ends up thirty dollars over when she cashes out, no matter how many times she counts it.

"Just...go home," Maggie says eventually. "Don't ride your bike into a tree or anything. Weirdo."

At home, she strips off the ugly work uniform and takes a shower and eats three bites of leftover szechuan noodles while standing in the open fridge door, wrapped in her bathrobe, thinking about nothing as hard as she can. Then she folds the top back down on the carton and sticks it on its wire shelf and closes the fridge again. She stops to pull on a clean t-shirt and a pair of jeans, then sticks her bare feet into her sneakers and hauls her bike back down the stairs. She doesn't actually know the address but some background part of her brain seems to know the way because it isn't long before she finds herself standing outside Maven's door.

She knows it's Maven's door because she remembers the scratches in the finish, right below the peephole. She knocks on it, twice and then a third time, just in case, then stands there with her thumbs hooked in her pockets and her bare toes curling up in her sneakers, trying not to lose her nerve even though the whole situation feels totally surreal and weird now that she's actually in it, now that she's here in the quiet hallway of Maven's building with the late afternoon sun slanting through the window in the stairwell and the dim friendly noise from everybody's TV sets mingling in the hush, and actually it's surreal because it's kind of a crazy thing to have done, riding over here uninvited on her bike (her _bike_) to...what? Bliss doesn't even know and she doesn't want to think about it, she just wants to leave, right now, before the door swings open and Maven actually _sees_ her out here, all weird and awkward and. Shit.

Maven's pulling open the door.

"Oh, hey," Bliss says, breathlessly, giving this retarded little wave and a smile that probably looks _insane_.

Maven lifts her eyebrows. She's wearing a pair of cutoffs and a tanktop and she has a beer in one hand. Her legs are long and bare; there's a big, purpling bruise above one knee, and her toenails are painted. Black.

Bliss blinks. She lifts her gaze back up to Maven's face. "I just. Uh. Didn't have your number, and so." She nods a couple of times, like she's actually said something that makes sense.

Maven's mouth curves upward. She tilts her head. "You want something?" she says.

Bliss swallows. She licks her lips. It's still insane, standing here, but fuck it, fuck it: all the best things are kind of insane. "Yeah," she says, and steps closer, puts a hand out and wraps her fingers in the soft stretchy cotton of Maven's tanktop, just over her right hip. She lifts her gaze, meets Maven's eyes. Maven looks steadily back, not helping, but not stepping away, either. It's encouraging. Bliss rocks up on her toes and closes her eyes right before her lips brush Maven's.

It's a weird kiss, tentative and dry, and then Bliss feels Maven's breath hot on her cheek and Maven's hand follows it, cupping the side of her face and tilting her head a little, holding her still. Maven's lips open against Bliss's, her tongue wet and firm on Bliss's bottom lip and then past it, pushing into Bliss's mouth. She steps back inside the apartment and tugs Bliss with her, pushing the door closed behind them, pushing Bliss back against the paneled wood. She sets her beer down on a table near the door and slides that hand up Bliss's ribs to cup her breast, thumb stroking over the nipple through the t-shirt and oh _fuck_, Bliss is already having trouble staying upright. She kisses back as best as she knows how, clenches the other hand in Maven's shirt too, hanging on.

Maven kisses her again, a little deeper this time, tilting Bliss's head back with the hand on her face, moving her lips over Bliss's chin to scrape her teeth along Bliss's jaw, to suck a biting kiss into Bliss's neck, just above the collar of her t-shirt. "So?" she says against Bliss's wet skin. "You never answered me, baby. What do you want?" She hasn't pulled away but her hands have stilled on Bliss's body, her mouth poised and waiting for Bliss's response.

Bliss takes a breath, and then another one, bringing her hand up to touch Maven's bent head, pushing her fingers into Maven's hair. "I -- this," she says, tugging a little. "You. I want to fuck you. I want you to, uh. Fuck me."

Maven huffs a laugh, mouthing at Bliss's neck again. "Okay," she says. "That's a good start." She lifts her head and kisses Bliss's mouth again, slowly, her thumb stroking Bliss's nipple. Her other hand slides down Bliss's arm until her fingers circle Bliss's wrist like a handcuff, pressing it back against the door behind her head and then tugging hard, pulling Bliss away from the door and turning her so her back is toward the rest of the apartment. Maven's other arm is around Bliss's waist, now, steadying her as Maven crowds her, pushing her back with her whole body, into the tiny bedroom with its unmade bed. Both hands are busy at Bliss's jeans, now, tugging the button open, unzipping the fly. Bliss helps push them off her hips and down, steps out of them hurriedly when Maven starts kissing her again, pressing her backward onto the bed, one hand in the small of Bliss's back, easing the way down.

The mattress is wide. It bounces under Bliss when she lands on it and she huffs a laugh that turns into a gasp when Maven's mouth finds skin where her t-shirt's riding up, just over the top of her panties. Maven's mouth is wide and wet and Bliss startles herself by making an actual noise when Maven's teeth close on her, biting just hard enough to make her feel it and licking the tiny indents afterward, her tongue flat and firm. Maven's hands settle on Bliss's hips, holding them into the mattress, and Bliss is also pretty surprised to find that this is necessary, that she's been thrusting up into Maven's chin without even realizing it. Maven kisses her again, nuzzling into Bliss's belly, pushing Bliss's t-shirt up with her nose so she can press hard, sucking kisses against Bliss's ribs and then higher, letting go of Bliss's hips so she can shove the t-shirt all the way up, her palms sliding rough and fucking _perfect_ over Bliss's nipples on the way.

Bliss gasps and comes off the bed a little, thrusting up into Maven's belly where it's pressed between her legs, and Maven laughs kind of breathlessly and tugs the t-shirt over Bliss's head, bunches it up and wraps it around Bliss's wrists, pinning the bundle of cotton to the mattress with one hand and kissing Bliss's mouth again, sucking at her bottom lip. Maven's hand feels hot against the side of Bliss's face. Her thumb strokes Bliss's jaw, tilting her head to make it easier, holding her still for another deep, sucking kiss. Bliss moans into it and pushes up against Maven again, and this time Maven pushes down to meet her; she lost her shorts somehow so there are only a couple of layers of underwear between them and it feels like nothing Bliss has ever felt before, soft and hot and wet, incredible and crazy-making. She strains against the t-shirt around her wrists.

Maven smiles into her neck and kisses her collarbone, her chest. Bliss feels her mouth fall wide open when Maven's mouth finds her breast, hot breath and a wet swipe of tongue before her lips close around it, sucking hard. "Oh fuck," Bliss hears herself say, faintly, and Maven mmmms into her skin, flicks Bliss's nipple with her tongue and pushes two fingers into Bliss's open mouth, blindly, her thumb stroking Bliss's chin. Bliss closes her teeth on them and humps up into Maven's hip again, feeling crazy, pushes her tongue against the pads of Maven's fingers while Maven licks at Bliss's nipple again and again and _again_, until Bliss moans in protest and tugs at the t-shirt wrapped around her wrists, not sure if she wants Maven to stop or never stop, because it _hurts_ but it's good, too, like poking at a bruise. Maven takes her hand away from Bliss's mouth. "You want me to stop, baby?" she says, faintly mocking, shifting so her elbow is pinning Bliss's wrists and her hand is free to stroke the sweaty hair from Bliss's face. "Is that too much for you? Tell you what: you need me to stop, you just say 'safeword' and I will. Okay?"

Bliss swallows, then does it again before she can get her voice to work. "Okay," she says.

Maven smirks up at her, chin brushing Bliss's aching breast. "Okay." Then she lowers her mouth and takes Bliss's nipple between her lips again, sucks long and hard and relentlessly good, trailing the hand that had been on Bliss's face all the way down Bliss's body to cup her through wet panties, heel of her hand pressing down hard. Bliss moans out loud and arcs up off the bed again, trying to escape Maven's mouth and press into it all at the same time. Maven laughs softly and lets go of Bliss's nipple, moves her mouth to Bliss's instead, kissing her deep and soothing while she tugs at Bliss's panties, getting them down just far enough to expose what's underneath, spit-wet fingers pressing into Bliss unerringly.

"Come once for me like this," Maven says, and kisses Bliss again, moves her lips to Bliss's cheek, mouth open and hot against Bliss's flushed skin. "I want to watch you lose it, baby. I want to see you give it up for me." She still sounds kind of mocking, but her fingers are pushing inside again, finding the place where the ache is at its worst and stroking it over and over in this steady rhythm that makes Bliss pant and struggle, makes her shake, makes her think she's going to lose her _mind_. When she comes, it feels kind of like getting bodychecked by an orgasm; she loses a few seconds, comes to feeling flattened, wrung out, breathing hard.

Maven kisses her on the mouth, on the chin, bites her neck, drops more sucking kisses onto her collarbone and belly and then her hip, lingering there while her fingers tug Bliss's panties down and off. Bliss swallows and breathes out, still most of the way gone. She lifts her hips obediently when Maven nudges her, though, and then opens her eyes wide when Maven's tongue presses into her, takes a deep, startled breath. Maven slides her hands up the backs of each of Bliss's thighs, pushing them up and apart, holding them wide open so she can tease Bliss's clit with the flat of her tongue and then close her lips on it, sucking hard. And Bliss just came a couple of seconds ago but she can already feel another orgasm building deep and she can't close her legs because of Maven's bruising grip under each of her knees and she can't see anything of Maven except the sharp round of one of her hips, the edge of a breast, the top of her bobbing head. Bliss pulls her hands out of their t-shirt binding, puts them over her own face and moans anyway, loud enough for Maven's neighbours to probably hear. Maven doesn't seem to mind; she sucks a little harder, slides two fingers into Bliss again, pressing in and _up_ and oh _fuck_. The second orgasm goes on and on and _on_ in waves, making Bliss shake and kind of _whimper_, there, toward the end of it. She is never going to live this down.

When she finally opens her eyes and peers out from between her fingers, Maven's propped on an elbow, laughing at her. "Wow, mockery," Bliss says, lowering her hands. "Very classy."

Maven trails a finger up Bliss's stomach, making her shiver, then pinches Bliss's sore nipple. "You going to get me off, now?" she says. "Or are you too busy being a fucking smartass?"

Bliss curls her lip and grabs Maven's wrist, uses her grip on it to roll them both over, pinning Maven to the bed. Then she stops. "I don't know how to, uh." She makes a face, waves a hand instead of finishing, feeling dumb.

Maven leans up and bites Bliss's bottom lip, hard, then licks at it soothingly, kisses her way back inside. "I'm shocked," she says, drily. "But don't worry -- lucky for you, I happen to be a professional."

Bliss grins. "Oh yeah?" she says.

Maven kisses her again, puts her hands on Bliss's hips and pulls her in close, making Bliss gasp. "Uh huh," she says. "So if you can keep your mouth shut and listen, I think we're going to do just fine."


End file.
